The Shirt of Dread
by dragonprincess1988
Summary: Jason isn't a fan of certain wardrobe choices.


Jason is sitting on his couch enjoying a nice cold beer, when he hears his window open and close - just loud enough to demonstrate that the noise was a courtesy - and then he hears two pairs of distinctive and separate footsteps. "I have a perfectly functioning door, you freaks."

"Nice to see you too, Jason." Dick's got a huge smile on his face, like he actually means it, which just irritates Jason.

"I assume you two morons want something, so state your business, so I can tell you to fuck off and get back to my day off."

"Charming as always, Jason." Tim's voice is dry and monotone, but the three of them have been doing this dance long enough that Jason can pick up on the hint of a smile on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, replacement. Get to the damn point. I don't got all day." He takes another swig of his beer before noticing what they're both wearing. He stares at the black t-shirt displaying the Wayne Enterprises logo and their khaki pants, which, he knows for a fact, are the same exact shade, because Alfred wouldn't overlook even that small of a detail. "What the fuck? Is this school spirit grownup style?"

Tim rolls his eyes, but the small smirk is making Jason suspicious. "It's for the WE picnic, Jason."

While Tim's smirk is setting Jason on edge, it's actually Dick's outright rapacious grin that makes him put his beer on the coffee table in front of him before getting to his feet and putting some distance between himself and those two. Dick's grin only grows as he holds out a bag in front of himself. "And you have one, too."

Jason shakes his head and takes another step away from them. "Oh, hell no, I don't even work there, and I'm still legally dead. There is no way that I'm going, and there is definitely no chance of you getting that fucking shirt on me."

Dick smiles evilly. "Wanna bet?"

Jason glares and stands his ground. "Try it, Grayson. I'm sure I can get to my gun faster than you can…" He's cut off abruptly when he feels a small, but heavy body slam into his back. There's a familiar arm wrapped around his throat, and Jason reaches up to throw Tim off, but before he can, Jason can feel the tip of a knife digging into his back and the sound of cloth ripping soon follows. Before Jason can react, Tim leaps away from him. "You sneaky little fuck! I liked that shirt."

Jason grabs his beer off of the coffee table and throws it as Tim. Tim merely laughs as he dodges the projectile. "Don't worry. I'll buy you a new one. Now, do you want to put the shirt on yourself or do we need to bring out our secret weapon?"

Jason scowls as he folds his arms over his naked chest. "There isn't anything that would get me to put on that fucking shirt."

Tim smirks mischievously. "Secret weapon it is. Dick, would you like to do the honors?"

Dick whistles high and loud, and then suddenly the lights go out. Jason scoffs at their trick, unmistakably not impressed. "Nice try, fuckers, but I was raised by the Bat, too. Besides, what would daddy dearest say if I showed up with bruises all over me?" He's about to continue when a particular shadow moves out of the corner of his eye. The other two are still standing in front of him, and the shadow is moving too fast to track. However, the small glimpse that he got was enough to know who's coming for him, and even Jason knows when he's beaten. "This is cheating, and you know it."

He's trying hard to follow the movement of the shadow, but, even with all of the city's light pollution filtering in from the window, this particular fighter is too good to be caught. He's standing in a ready position, but Jason knows there will never be enough preparation in the world for this fight. He abruptly feels the air displace behind him, and goes for a punch that he knows won't connect. "Seriously, this is a bit much, don't ya think?"

"Nah, not nearly enough, actually." He can hear the sadistic glee in Dick's voice, and it makes him want to throw at least one of his various knives at the acrobat. His hand twitches at the very idea of it, but before he can reach for any of his weapons Jason feels a solid punch to his arm, and then there are hands on him, systematically disarming him. The hands are too fast for him to do anything about it, though not for a lack of trying. However, the moment that he feels his boot knife being removed, Jason knows that he's well and truly fucked.

"Alright, fine, just skip to the god damn point, or I'm going to…" He doesn't get to finish his threat before he's swept off his feet. He grapples with the smaller body, cursing loudly the entire time, but after about three minutes the lights turn back on. He's lying on the floor with the stupid fucking WE shirt on, and Cass is sitting on him, looking really damn self-satisfied. "I thought you were above these kinds of things."

Cass smiles and shakes her head. "Was fun…I'm not above fun."

He groans and tries to push her off of him, but Cass won't be budged. "Fine, but I'm not wearing the stupid fucking khaki pants." Cass folds her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow as she gives him a truly sadistic looking smirk. Jason swallows hard once before giving her one of his more charming smiles. "Or, you know, I guess I could, but, you know, only for one afternoon."

She pats his head like he's a particularly pleasing pet. "Good." She suddenly pushes herself off of him, and catches the pants that Dick throws her in one hand while still staring at him expectantly.

She tosses the pants to him, and Jason sighs loudly as he shucks off his pants and pulls on the damn khakis. "I did not rejoin the family for this shit."

She flashes him a sharp grin. "Sure, you did."

The End


End file.
